


darling, ow, what you crying for?

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Im going to hell for this one, Love Confessions, M/M, at least a very little of comfort, author is using american measuring system, but at what cost, george is absolutely whipped, george is overdramatic, i actually dont know how long is a feet, it actually became more angsty after i wrote tags, no beta we die like dream6d, theyre both too dramatic to be in character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After the whole Dream Team finally moved in together, ruining it because of his dumb feelings for new roommate wasn't on George's to–do list. It takes one closed Wendy's for him to let everything out. (Sapnap just wants to eat his fucking Thai.)teen n up for cursingcw: author is bilingual, so i probably fucked up everything that is fuckable. in theory it's present tense, in practice? who knows.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Anonymous





	darling, ow, what you crying for?

**Author's Note:**

> it's not the best thing i wrote, the whole thing seems too rushed :/ i actually started writing three separated stories and then smashed them into one. but im sick of it, so i just have to throw it somewhere – and its better to have dnf than not to have. the end. 
> 
> (multiple spelling and grammar mistakes, but fuck them) 
> 
> george is silly little british man and i find british people really fucking funny. 
> 
> no usage of dreams real name bc as much as "im not worried about dream - im worried about clay" is comedy gold, clay is pronounced exactly like "glue" in my language. and. i just cant do it today. my mental capacity does not include writing angst about glue.
> 
> you know that weird moment when you want to name fanfic after song lyrics, because you have no other ideas? but the only songs you are hyperfixated on at the moment are minecraft discs, bo burnham and minecraft parodies? so you have to choose between creeper aw man and i fucked her in an elevator it was wrong on so many levels? yeah.
> 
> anyways, creeper rap, am i right?

"Yeah so. I think that closest Wendy's is having renovation, or something, so we have to get McDonald's. Or Thai, there's good place down the street." Dream is talking. 

It's really funny, to be honest. George hears him, of course he does, they are sitting in living room, not more than one foot apart. But he also has no clue what the fuck is younger talking about. He's just saying words. Good for him, but even better for George. 

Because Dream is ethereal. If you held George on gunpoint, he definitely wouldn't be able to describe his friend in other words than "fucking beautiful". 

His face? Pretty.

His hair? Pretty (wavy). 

He, in general? Absolutely stunning. 

And because he's not only idiot, but also in love, he accidentally reaches to brush his thumb past Dream's cheekbone. He definitely didn't mean to do it, so he just throws a surprised look at Dream and ends movement with cupping his face, to not be awkward. 

Blond, living up to his "golden retriever boy" tittle, does not protest, although he also doesn't look like he knows what's going on. Instead of asking, though, he just leans into the touch. 

"... you alright?" Dream looks concerned. 

"...yeah" no. Actually, he is not alright. What the hell just happened. Why did he do that. 

"So, what do you think?" What does he think? Good question. Right now, he is thinking about how soft Dream's skin is. And how they are still in the same position, both too comfortable and touch starved to move. 

"What do I think about what?" 

"...food. I was talking to you for past twenty minutes." 

Faux pas. 

"I'm not alright."

Dream's eyes sparkle with amusement and concern. 

"Yeah. I could see that coming. In shortcut, I asked what do you want to eat?" 

"Uhhh, we can make something?" 

"You already forgot how you called me 'British Bake Off wannabe' last time I tried to cook something?"

"Yeah, you cut fucking avocado in half. With pit. Totally deserved. Maybe Wendy's?"

"I just told you it's closed." You can tell this conversation is entertaining for Dream, little grin appearing at his face. 

"I want Thai." Says Sapnap, and it's a little surprising for George. He didn't register him walking to the room, but it must've happened a while ago, because right now he is laying comfortably on floor under the table. George's hand falls from his friend's face in slight embarrassment, Sapnap will never shut up about what just happened. 

Dream ignores younger boy completly. 

"Uhh," George thinks about his options, distracted by loss of physical contact. He doesn't like Thai that much, and he knows that Dream's a fan of McDonald's chips (fries, he corrects himself quickly). So it's not a hard decision. "Mcdonald's sounds good." 

"Alright, so we're having McDonald's." 

"I literally just said I want Thai?" 

"Shut the fuck up, Sapnap." 

It's been four days since they moved in together, and it was just ninety six hours of Sapnap being a victim of Dream bluntly favourising George. Brit doesn't want to say it out loud and set his expectations too high, but maybe, only maybe, it means that his feelings are reciprocated. 

Dream turns his attention to George, smiling softly at him. If just a single smile is able to leave brunet breathless, no it's not. 

Dream's love language is giving gifts and name calling. 

George's love language is being incredibly fucking stupid. So he just observes every Dream's move in absolute awe. 

"Before we order, wanna talk about why you've been zoning out since you get here?" 

Blond actually cares about him, which is enough for George to not think before he speaks. 

"I like you." George blurts out. 

Oh shit. 

He knows that he's completely red right now, his face hot from blushing. He can feel Dream's eyes on him, as well as Sapnap's. There's no way he can explain it without confessing to Dream. 

Not daring to look up at his friends, George does the only logical thing he can think about – he runs. 

Everything feels surreal as he grabs his phone and gets to the door before Dream even stands up. 

Last thing he hears right before closing front door is Sapnap's "so can I call the Thai place now?" 

He runs. 

He runs for good two minutes (definitely less) (he literally plays minecraft for living, plus Florida is just too fucking hot).

Then he almost dies from exhaust, his knees on verge of giving up. 

His phone is ringing. 

It's Heat Waves, shout out for Sapnap who thought that making this song whole Dream Team's ringtone would be a great idea. It's not. 

The person calling is Dream, who else. George, for oblivious reason, doesn't answer. There's a chance that if Dream keeps calling, he will do it later. Because he is already lost. 

Lead by instinct of 'not exactly short, but not as tall as the rest of friendgroup' person he finds the tallest construction in his view, which just happens to be the ugliest plastic slide he has ever seen. 

Somehow he gets on the top of it (brilliant parkour abilities), and decides that calling Dream back is his best option at the moment.

He waits a while – he doesn't want Dream to see how desperate he is.

His fingers hover over This One Contact™, and George knows it won't end well. But he does it anyway. 

"George! Thank gods, you are okay. Where are you?" Dream picks up and starts talking immediately. 

"Uhhh..." He doesn't know what to say. Everything happened too fast for his liking. His thoughts are still in they rented house, next to whining about Thai food Sapnap. 

"I see that I spoke too quickly," Dream murmurs, and then, a little louder, "are you okay?" 

Fuck it.

"No." He's holding back tears. 

"Georgie," why was it so soft and comforting, out of sudden?, "can you tell me where you are? So we can talk about it. Or not, if you don't want to. Just let me be with you, alright?" 

"No...?" It sounds more like a question, and he doesn't like the unsureness, so painfully visible in his own voice. 

A sigh. 

"It's okay. I understand that you need space. But..." Now it's Dream's turn to be hesitant. "Can you at least tell me why did you run away? Please." 

"I– I'm sorry, Dream. It's not that easy. Can we just drop it?" 

Blond is actually considering it, judging by his silence. 

"I don't think so," he answers finally, "I just want to know if it's not my fault, y'know? So I won't ever do anything wrong again. I care about you, really." 

It takes only three sentences said in Dream's unusual silky sweet tone, for George to finally break down. 

He takes a sharp breath, afraid of what he's about to say. 

"It is. It is because of you. Because of how you act. And, uh. I can't tell you more." It should be enough for Dream to understand what does he mean. 

It is not enough. Absolutely clueless. 

"I'm sorry. I don't really know what did I do, but I'm sorry." Dream's voice is genuine. "But you are my best friend. And you will always be." 

Something in George cracks. 

Why does being called 'best friend' hurt?

Why can't he be something more? 

"I love you! Okay? Satisfied?" George is crying. It wasn't supposed to end up like this; with his screams and tears. 

Other side of call is still silent. Too silent. George cries harder. 

"Fuck you, Dream. Honestly. I– I love you. I love you, I love you. Isn't it enough? For a reason why do I act this way?" His voice cracked up more than he wants to acknowledge. His throat feels a little bit too hoarse and dry for his liking; it hurts. Everything just hurts. "Why can't it be enough?" He ends quietly. 

Dream doesn't answer. He just hangs up on him. 

Oh. 

Alright. 

If he wasn't already crying before, George would start sobbing just because of this. But he has reached his breaking point good two minutes ago, right after Dream called him his best friend. 

Friendzone hurts. 

What hurts even more, is getting hit by little rock, right in the head. 

"What the–" George starts, turning around to see attacker. Thanks to this action, another rock lands in his hair. 

"You dumb motherfucker, I'm gonna rock your damn shit so hard you won't be able to be fucking dramatic anymore, stupid bitch." Dream's here. 

George shouldn't be surprised, Dream literally lives in Florida, so it's obvious that he knows all places George could possibly run away to. 

Brit just sobs louder in response, to let blond know that he is incredibly hurt and he doesn't approve the blunt slander of his person. Dream shoots him an unamused look. 

"Did you confess to me? Was that a love confession?" Dream shouts, not bothering to try and get on the top of slide George is currently 'hiding' on. 

George just throws back rocks he got hit by, one at the time. He is terrible at it and not even one reaches his target. 

"What do you think, dickhead?! I literally told you 'I love you', three fucking times!" His voice breaks in the middle of second sentence, so he quickly covers it up with louder crying. Oscar worthy performance, in his humble opinion. 

"Four times, bitch! You said it four times!" Dream sounds angry, and even with how clueless and oblivious George is, he knows it's not because of his inability to count. 

"Why are you," he has to swallow tears in order to talk, "so goddamn mad?" 

"Because! Are you fucking blind?! And dumb?!" And now Dream looks like he's about to cry. But why?

"No! Maybe you should just talk to me, and tell me what the fuck do you mean?! Do I look like fucking telekinesist to you?" George finally snaps. 

"Mind reading is telepathy, not telekinesis! Motherfucker." Now he's also crying. Not ready for sudden wave of emotions, Dream just crouches, almost falling in proces. He stays in that position for a while, with face hidden in hands. 

George respectfully stays silent, giving him moment to collect himself. They just sit and sob quietly. Dream starts building little sand castle, his tears dropping and destroying small towers are not helping. 

Little kid runs through the playground, followed by their mother. She quickly notices two grown men crying, and decides it's actually time to leave. 

She calls her child. Their name is McKayleigh–Ann. It's literally ridiculous, they both start laughing. At first it's silent chuckles, but then Dream chokes on air. So George starts giggling, louder than before. So Dream wheezes. So George full on laughs, unable to stop himself. 

And so on, it only escalates from here. 

Their laughs are heavy from tears, and George is literally on edge of crying again, but his friend's laugh made the whole world brighter. 

And it's unfair. Because George knows, that it's not for forever. That someday Dream will find new person to laugh with. And George still will be hopelessly in love with him. 

They fall into silence. 

George decides to throw some sand at his friend, he's not gonna get his heart broken without a fight. 

He does it, Dream looks slightly offended. 

"Uncalled for."

"Absolutely called for. If you haven't noticed, I am going through heartbreak. Shut the fuck up and let me hurt you in revenge." 

He throws another three series before Dream finally connects the dots. 

"Wait."

"No." 

"Why is _your_ heart broken, to be exact?" 

George looks at him dumbfounded. 

"... because I like you? And it's unrequited?"

Dream thinks about his words for a while, visibly weighing his options. 

"Hmph. Dumb bitch."

"Now that's uncalled for." 

It seems to unblock some memory in Dream's brain. Maybe the reason why he came on playground and started calling him names in the first place, George hopes. 

"Call, you say." And here they are again, Dream sounds a little angrier than a second before. Their eyes meet, and if George wasn't sitting seven feet above ground, he would definitely get bodyslammed into dirt. "You, who confessed to me. Through a call." 

George really doesn't see a problem here, so he vocalizes it. And it looks like it irritated Dream even more. 

"Of course you don't, pretentious motherfucker. It's not like we are living in the same house, for the first time since we met six years ago, isn't it?" Oh. So maybe there is a little issue. 

Dream's tearing up again. 

"And, and, you don't even know how long it took me to understand my feelings. To define the border between love and friendship. But it's always about you! About how you didn't get to see my face on stream, how you were uncomfortable with saying three, stupid, meaningless words. How you think you were the only one hurt after confessing in the worst way possible. How I always am the bad one. How despite it all, I still crave for you."

"Oh." George is at loss of words. Oh. 

"Mhm." Dream laughs again, but this time George hates it. It sounds defeated, sour. Like Dream didn't mean it. Like he wasn't really happy, ever. "Oh, exactly. And you know what? I love you too." A beat of silence. "I don't want to love you. I'm sorry."

He was too hard on Dream. He realizes it too late, as his friend is already walking through the gates and leaving playground behind. 

Leaving George behind. 

"Wait!" He stands up abruptly. Dream doesn't stop. 

George gets down and starts running, catching up the distance in record time. 

"Dream," he's panting, and it's not the type of panting he would except after acknowledging that your long term crush is required. "Stop. Please. Can we talk?" 

"No." Dream walks faster. 

"But why! I love you," he says those words with difficulty, but he does it. Dream slowers a little bit. "And you love me! So why are you running away?"

Dream finally stops. And turns around. 

His eyes are wet, and soon George's are too. 

"George," his voice is so soft. He also sounds hurt, and George would do literally anything to change it. But he can't. He is the reason why Dream is hurt. "It's just... Not every love story has a happy ending. You were right. You love me, but it's not enough. Hell, even me loving you is not enough." He smiles sadly, taking George's face in his hands. He strokes delicately skin under his eye, and brunet is melting. 

"But..."

"Shh. It's not up to discussion. I'm sorry. For what I'm about to do."

Dream leans in, regret already visible on his face. 

Then it hits George. They are about to kiss. Like, properly, and completely not for fanservice. 

It'll be their first kiss. 

Their lips touch. Dream slightly moves. 

(George is going to faint.)

Dream moves faster. He bites down on George's bottom lip.

(Holy shit.)

Kiss becomes messy, full of tounges, clacking teeth and, finally, moans. When Dream tries to back up, George drags him back by collar. 

It's their second kiss. 

Longer, slower. George probably will die.

Maybe Dream changed his mind? A new spark of hope appears in brit's chest. 

He pulls back, only because he ran out of oxygen and everything became a little too blurry and dizzy. They're both breathing heavily, George trying to comprehend what just did happen. He looks at younger's face, into his amber eyes. 

Dream did not change his mind. 

His eyes are still sad, now also with a hint of guilty. Dream didn't mean to kiss him. 

His heart squeezes in his chest, he can't breathe, his lungs ache. Everything is wrong. 

Dream regrets it. 

"I'm sorry." Blond whispers again, so close that George still can feel hot air hitting his face. 

It was their last kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> anyways, subscribe to technoblade 
> 
> maybe ill write second chapter with happy ending, but i actually dont want to look at this work ever again. no beta because im fucking sick of those words i wrote.


End file.
